Which Witch?
by Septanimous
Summary: Rose Weasley wants nothing more than an adventure, but can't do anything with the Prophet breathing down her neck. When she meets a skilled witch her age the Quidditch World Cup, she realizes that there's more for her than Hogwarts can offer. What happens when two clever young witches switch places? Also, a certain Bulgarian Seeker returns to teach flying (and break hearts).


Another explosion sounded in the distance. Rose honed in for the sound of a familiar voice, and only heard the hollering of a dozen languages that she couldn't understand. The path of spells streamed through the air around her, giving the air a fizzy feeling. A scuffle was breaking out to her left, and she had to jump over a particularly nasty looking orange hex thrown low by a man in blue and red robes who was pinned to the ground by a larger man in green and white robes.

The 2018 Quidditch World Cup Final between the Irish National Quidditch team and the American National Quidditch team had lasted all of two minutes and 48 seconds before the US seeker, Joett Pace, caught the snitch. It was obvious to everyone in the Ireland stands that the Americans had somehow cheated. They were calling for war.

Rose had been filing into the stands late, and had not reached her family before all hell broke loose. Now she was doing all she could to stay out of the way.

As much as Rose loved supporting her family's favorite team, she couldn't help but feel a bit smug about the turnout. She had been trying to tell her father, aunt, uncle, brother, cousins, and pretty much anyone who brought up quidditch in a conversation that there must not be one working mind in the entire quidditch industry, players coaches, and fans included.

If one ball was worth the same as 15 other goals and has the power to end the game, then why would each team only have one player looking for it? They all had eyes, didn't they? Of course only the seeker would be able to catch it, even grazing it was considered a horrible foul called snitchnip which could call for immediate expulsion from the game .

The way Rose would have it done, would be to have the keeper and two chasers always playing their position with complete focus, but have both beaters and a chaser set to look for the snitch, look out for their seeker, and impair the abilities of the seeker on the opposing team. He or she should never have to face that alone. If a team was falling behind badly enough, this "seeker team" would lose a member or two to support the "quaffle game." If one of them saw it, they would instantly communicate it (through code signals or calls) and fall into a formation to guard their seeker as they attempted their catch. This allowed for many trick plays, which would also make the game more fun, let alone quicker.

The Americans were infamous for their non-traditional style, and by having Joett Pace guarded closely by one of her beaters for the entirety of what little amount of game time there was, it allowed her the confidence to go after the snitch directly with no detours, tricks, or hesitation. The other seeker took too much time avoiding bludgers whenever he got close to even have a chance.

It also helped that her eyesight was so good that she was known in the league as " Hawk Eye."

She seemed to be the only one in green showing anything even in the spectrum of admiration for that play.

Rose wondered if her father had killed anyone yet. He was known for going a bit mad at this sort of thing.

She had only one year of Hogwarts under her belt, and although this had been enough for her parents to break through several levels of magical traps to stop one of Voldemort's plots, she was not quite as sure about her abilities in the face of a herd of drunken, violent Quidditch fans.

After casting an elementary shielding charm on herself and a four-point charm to point her back towards the camp, she took off.

It was underage magic, but it was on the list of things to practice over the summer, and she doubted that it would be noticed at all in this ruckus.

The shielding charm ended up being unexpectedly useful when it started raining. Not because it kept her dry (sadly, it didn't), but because somehow the aim of all around got much worse. She would have taken a Sardine Hex and a _Redactum Skullus _otherwise. It didn't block the stinging hex she took to the knee, and her jog took on a bit of a limp.

She saw a familiar head of white-blonde hair, and when he turned she saw it which was damp and stuck to a familiar face as well. He looked her direction, and looked like he was about to wave before he thought better of it.

* * *

><p>Scorpious Malfoy had gotten off on the wrong foot with her from day one at Hogwarts.<p>

Oh yes, she had though he was cute at first. He had big grey eyes and a handsome smile. She came into his car on the train to say hello and to make it clear that although their families didn't get along, it didn't mean that they had to.

He was charming, but reserved. This was a good change from the chaos factory that was her family.

They talked about how excited they were to go. Neither of them had older siblings at Hogwarts yet.

He even showed her the big cut he had on his arm from a flying race he had the weekend before, that he had hid from his mother because he wanted it to heal into a scar instead of getting fixed with magic.

She told him that was stupid because it could get infected.

He said it was worth it because girls loved scars.

"That's ridiculous." _Was it though? There's not anything wrong with scars, but they're not particularly interesting. I've only started liking boys this summer, so that scars are cute is probably something that l haven't had time to learn yet._ "How would you know if girls loved scars?" She asked, actually quite curious.

"It means they have faced a certain doom and survived ! There's no better sign of a hero than that. "Look at Harry Potter for example," he replied. "You probably know him more than me, but my dad talks about him all the time. He got into the Chamber of Secrets second year, even though he wasn't the heir, and beat a basilisk!" This was one of the few times that Rose was loving being part of a famous family. She wondered if he would want to meet him, and you know, come over to her house and hang out. But he wasn't done talking, so she kept listening to the excitement in his voice with her head tilted, unknowingly batting her eyelashes a bit more heavily than normal.

".. And he got all the girls. Dad said your mum was snogging him from fourth year up."

Her mom and uncle Harry? Her heart, which had been fluttering warmly, sunk down into the pit of her stomach and knotted up. She had to think about this before she did anything rash. She glared at him, picked up her bag, and walked out. She heard him apologize under his breath, but he didn't make a very big attempt. Not that she would have accepted any he had to give.

The worst thing about it, and what kept her mad at him for this after an entire year, was that he was probably right. She would never ask her mom about her uncle Harry, but it was common history that they had a past. The newpapers saved in the Hogwarts library archives even confirmed it. After reading a particularly nasty one involving her mother, uncle, and a Bulgarian seeker, she put them down that research for good. She didn't want to know.

* * *

><p>Seeing Scorpius now, after two months of seeing far too much of her mother and uncle together, gave her that same twisting feeling in her heart, and she let herself get pulled into the crowd and away from him.<p>

Her shielding charm was fading, and her side was jabbed sharply with a wand. She realized that she was not aware of her surroundings, and tightened her grip on her own wand before looking to face who was at her side.

Her eyes opened widely. She did not know the man, but he was staring intently at her, with smirk and a dark look in his eyes. She could not make out his features, even with him standing so close. She assumed that he has cast some kind of charm on himself that prevented him from being recognized. She couldn't tell the color of his hair, the wideness of his nose, or even make out the like of his jaw. She tried to yell out, and no noise came out.

It didn't hit her until a second later that she couldn't cast any spells if she couldn't speak them.

"Why, hello little Rose." He greeted her calmly, as if they were old friends.

She was slightly embarrassed when it crossed her mind that she might know him. She didn't want to be rude. He could just be making a joke, after all, like her uncle George would.

But she couldn't identify him as anyone she knew. The tiny flush of embarrassment was then completely obliterated by her fear. He knew her from the news. He was after her because of her family.

Rose tried to run, and found herself rooted to the ground.

"Imperio," he said softly. And that was all she remembered.

* * *

><p>Rose found herself on the floor inside a tent, her robe removed, but still wearing her muggle clothes that they wore into the American Quidditch camp as a disguise.<p>

A man was unconscious and bleeding from his head beside her.

She started crying, and this time she could hear herself. It didn't comfort her.

_Where am I? What the hell did he do to me? Did he- _

_No. _

_I'm fine. _

_He didn't touch me. He didn't get a chance to do that, if that was what he was trying._

Rose was twelve, but she wasn't oblivious to the kind of terrible things that could happen to young women. Her mother worked in the ministry and almost her entire family were Aurors, or had been one at one pont.

What did comfort her, was when a girl that she hadn't noticed in the room kicked the wand out from the man's hands, stomped on it until it cracked, and proceeded to cast incarcerous on the man until he has completely coiled up in thick rope from shoulder to toe.

The girl hesitantly came over to Rose.

"Are you hurt? Did he- Did he hurt you?"

Rose tried to remember what had happened, but she couldn't. Other than a hand-shaped bruise that was forming on her upper arm, another from where he jabbed her with his wand in the side, and what remained of the stinging hex she too to her knee, she was unmarred and not hurting.

"He hadn't yet, but-" she couldn't finish what she was saying.

She looked up at the girl, and the girl bent down and looked her over, concerned. Rose realized that this girl had tears in her eyes too, but not for her own sake.

"Thank you," was all that Rose could get out. The girl sat down beside her, helped her get her robe back on, and offered her a hand to hold.

She talked to the girl for a while. It wasn't noticeable at first, but the girl was definitely American. She had short brown hair and blue eyes, and was dressed in the American style of tight sleaved, high collared, close fitting robes. She was Rose's age, although the situation had made Rose think she was a lot older than twelve.

"I saw him a few minutes before he was with you, and should have said something to your wizard police. Anyone with an_ obfuscate_ cast on themselves is up to no good. But, I had no way to describe him and thought that I would lose him if I looked away, so I didn't and _Thank Goodness _I didn't because of, you know,_ this_.

"You followed him here?"

"I didn't know what else to do! My family wasn't around."

"More of a reason to run, Amber." She was finding her voice. "What if he got you too? He was an Adult! He could do anything!"

"Never give your enemy that much credit, Rose. That's one thing we learn at Salem. Everyone has a weak spot, and if you don't look for it, you'll miss it."

_That's a lot different than the avoid danger at all costs lessons we've got at Hogwarts. All our teachers ever do is show us how badly we would fare against any real skill. Learn so that you won't be helpless when you graduate, is the way it comes across. I don't think I've ever been told that I actually have a chance to win anything now…_

"They teach you that at Salem Institute?"

"What, defense arts? It's an entire subject!"

"Well we have defense too," replied Rose, feeling like herself again. "and we memorize spells and counterspells. But never to actually use. Ok, that's not entirely true. Bullies use spells on other people, but they are just classmates. So we know all the same stuff. If an older student does anything, well, they wouldn't because McGonagall would just expel them. But we do fight with magical plants sometimes!"

The dam broke loose and her words were gushing out. But she noticed it only as it was leveling out, and there was really nothing she needed to say. Except she needed to ask the questions that pertained to the situation.

"How did you, incapacitate him? Well he wake up soon?" She hadn't put any thought into the fact that he might be dead. She didn't think it was worth getting close enough to check.

"Professor Penty says that a person's weakness is usually that they lower their guard when they think that they are in a safe location, and if you can get there undetected, you have just won half the battle. I burned a tiny hole in the top of the tent when I saw him carry you in first, and looked to see where he was positioned in the room. Which was on the chair over.. well, it was a chair then."

It now was a heap of broken wood and wicker.

"When I found the spot above him, I cast a bigger incendo and dropped in on him. He would have expected an attack from the main opening of the tent, so I just did it quickly so he wouldn't have time to catch his bearings. The heavyweight charm and on myself before jumping in is really what did the trick. Hit him like a bag of bricks."

"If you cast that much underage magic, the aurors should be coming here shortly."

"We call them Aces here in the states, but yes, they will. Ironically it helps us out in this situation."

There was a lull in the conversation while Rose looked around the tent, taking in the surroundings.

"Plants, huh? Doesn't seem very practical to me, but might be more fun that tactics and theory. I've spent more time researching and writing essays on that than I think I have spent collectively on eating this past year. I can't wait until our battles start fourth year."

"We have triwizard and dueling club, but battles sound pretty fun. I wish I could see those."

* * *

><p>The American Aurors, (Aces, as Amber would repeatedly clarify) came shortly, arrested the man, took statements from both of the young women, and sent patronuses to their parents.<p>

Amber's parent's arrived first, and took her somewhere else. She knew she would see her again. That was how these cases worked.

With the appearance of her parents, who were experiencing emotions on the scale between murderous and despairing, Rose allowed herself to be distracted by their embraces and went back into the childhood stage in which all she wanted was their affections and the rest of the world faded away.

After that, she never stopped thinking about what she was missing out on. Was there other magic to learn at Salem that would make her a better witch?

Amber was prepared, and she wasn't. The answer was simple.

The weeks after the abduction gave her another reason. The Daily Prophet had the story, and as much as she was a celebrity before, this made it all the worse. The man went to Askaban because of use of an unforgivable curse, which they traced on his wand. But once word got out that he had used the imperious curse on her, there was all sorts of speculation on what he had her do. . They kept printing out situations that were much worse than what happened. It was embarrassing the things that they said had been done to her, and she hated the looks of pity she got when she went anywhere.

Worst of all was the invisible wall that was put up between herself and her friends and family. They were trying too hard to be gentle with her in conversation, but it just put a big elephant in the room that made everything just, awkward.

Amber's name was hardly mentioned at all in the media, even though she was the hero, because no one wanted to hear about a no-name foreigner.

Amber was what Rose wanted to be. To be the secret hero, living in the shadows, and making the world a better place. She wanted to be able to have an exciting life of adventure and mystery, but already knew, at age 12, that it would be difficult to do with the entire British wizarding world breathing down her neck.

She would probably go crazy first.

In America they knew her family, but I doubt they would know her, or even care about what she did. It was the perfect opportunity.

Unfortunately, when she asked her mother, she found that in order to graduate Hogwarts, she would have to go 7 years there, and they did not accept transfers.

And when she asked Amber, she found that Amber had been doing the same research to try to get a year at Hogwarts with her, where she would be able to take their incredible new potions invention elective. (This is what she told Rose, but Rose knew that it was because there were actually boys at Hogwarts, unlike Salem's Institute for Girls. )

Amber found Hogwarts only would admit students who had received a letter for their first year. They simply were not part of the transfer circuit. This she thought was the stupidest thing she had ever heard of, and she had heard of a lot of stupid things.

* * *

><p>It was that summer that they came up with <em>The Plan<em>.

They would switch places for their sixth year. It was not a huge year for either of them. It would be difficult as far as class loads go, but it was perfect otherwise.

It was the first year that experimental potions was offered at Hogwarts, which was what Amber wanted to try.

And there were no big tests that year. It was between The O.W.L.s and the N.E.W.T.s, and between the WWATs (Witch and wizard aptitude tests) and the SME (Specialized magic exam) in America. Amber said that these were the standardized test that all American magic schools used, and Rose wondered how many of these there were.

They had four years to prepare. They would do small augmentations to their appearances over time to meet in the middle at a stage where they could pass for one another. Otherwise, it would be too big of a cosmetic alteration to avoid detection, let alone be safe to perform. They had puberty on their side, and they didn't look that different to begin with.

To plan out the middle ground, they started by drawing out their similarities. (Rose drew this, since she was the artistic one) Both had very similar blue eyes, builds, forehead length and bridge of their nose (although Amber's was slightly wider).

The biggest difference was the hair color. Red would never pass as chestnut brown, and there really was no middle ground. This would be the last thing to change, only upon making the switch.

To make things easier, they made an organized list of small alterations to make, and then organized it temporally to see if it was possible.

The plan was lightening Rose's freckles, deepening her skin tone a shade or two, and slightly widening her nose, thickening her hair and eyelashes, raising and darkening her eyebrows, changing her jawline to be more pronounced, and making sure she didn't grow too tall.

Amber would grow out her hair, lower her eyebrows, slenderize her nose, make her chin smaller, lighten her eyebrows, and scatter freckles lightly over her face.

This over the course of 4 years would not be that noticeable, and they promised to meet up every summer and winter break to track their progress and make the needed adjustments of themselves and their plans. They would also stay present in each other's lives with letters, and would share everything. Classwork, stories about friends, and their opinions on just about everything.

This plan gave a purpose to their daily lives. Both felt like they had awoken from a slumber that they had been in their entire lives and finally had started living.

* * *

><p>Happy Christmas! I'll be putting out a chapter a day for as long as I can. I have a 30 chapter plot written out, but please review so I know it is being enjoyed. More feedback means a better story and faster posting!<p> 


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